


Happy (?) Birthday

by ThunderFrost2012



Series: Fluff&Fun&More [9]
Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Birthday Presents, Birthday crisis, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Hairspray, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, kitsch gifts, too much cuteness to handle, too much fluff to handle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 14:39:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4104556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThunderFrost2012/pseuds/ThunderFrost2012
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s 9th June. Miro freaks out and Sylwia asks for help... what will Thomas do?</p><p>Part IX of the series, but can be read as a stand alone.</p><p>HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MIROOOOO!!! <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy (?) Birthday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kopfkino](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kopfkino/gifts), [Xira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xira/gifts), [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts), [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> For Andrea, Xira, Keysi and Fatou, four wonderful ladies, my source of support and mostly four amazing authors, you all should go check their stories out ;)  
> un-betaed and quickly re-read, so sorry for my ugly mistakes!!

Thomas waits. And waits. And waits again.  
He knows that Miroslav will have to answer to his phone sooner or later.  
It's almost Midday of such an important day.  
Thomas has promised to himself he would just wait for the 8th June to end, in order to call his boyfriend on Midnight, because it would have been so romantic!  
  
But problem is that he fell asleep around 11:50 p.m. and Lisa found him still sleeping outside, on a chair of their terrace, finding that pretty funny.  
But Thomas didn't consider that funny, he has just called himself stupid for not managing to keep awake.  
Probably it was that entire previous training fault: neither did Bastian, Philipp, Manuel or Robert would manage to accomplish such a task.  
But not Mario, he would be able do the impossible if it serves to make Marco happy.  
  
\- _Maybe don't I love Miro enough? -_ He questions himself, concerned, while the phone reaches its sixth ring.  
  
_\- Naah, it's just that Mario is younger, so is fuller of energies and adrenaline than me!_ \- He tells himself.  
  
Finally his call gets picked up.  
  
'Hello Tho..."  
"HAAAAAAPPPY BIIIRRRTHHDAAAAAAY, KLOOOOOOSIEE!" The German screams at the top of his lungs, all cheerful.  
  
There's a noise of hung up from the other side and then the signal of busy line.  
  
Thomas stares at the screen stunned and then realization hits him as violent as a storm on a sunny day.  
  
\- _Miro is pissed off with me! And he has all the rights to be; when it was my birthday, not only he wished me happy birthday on Midnight, but he travelled to me and made the queen of all the surprises to me... and I didn't even manage to be the first to call him on his birthday? I'm the worst boyfriend ever!_ \- He curses himself, turning his room upside down while he tries to pack his things in a rucksack as fast as he can.  
  
He's still busy planning the most astonishing way to pay a visit to his beloved and make things right, when his iPhone rings.  
  
\- Maybe _it's Miro who already forgave me; after all he has such a golden heart_ …- The Bavarian  ponders, relieved, but it's rather upset when he looks at the display and realises it's an unknown number.  
  
But still from Italy.  
  
"Hallo?" He answers with diffidence.  
"Thomas, it's me, Sylwia..." The Polish woman whispers.  
"Sylwia?! But how..."  
"Oh well, I stole your number from Miro's iPhone, you know, he's not so technological to use a password or something!" She explains, making him smile. "But I did only in case of emergency and, believe me, this _is_ an emergency!"  
"Oh my god, what happened? Is Miro okay?" Thomas asks, deeply concerned, while his mind runs much faster than his words do.  
  
\- _Oh dear, maybe he didn't hung up on purpose, he passed out, or he fell and hurt himself pretty badly... or some Rome's ultras made a raid to his house and beat him down... okay, last hyphothesis is a bit exaggerated, plus Rome won the derby, so they shouldn't be..._ -  
  
"Thomas, Thomas? Are you still there?" Sylwia brings him back to reality.  
"Huh yes... so, is Miro okay?" Thomas asks her again.  
"Like I was trying to tell you before... yes and no. I mean, physically he's alright, awesome shape and very good health, but mentally... I don't know, he had a sort of breaking down since this morning... he freaks out every time someone mentions his birthday... "  
  
\- _Oh, so that's why he hang up before!-_ He muses.  
  
"Oh c'mon, it can't be that bad..."  
"He snapped even when Noah and Luan attempted to give him the birthday card they drew for him!" Sylwia informs him.  
"Geez, it's worse than I thought then..." Thomas mumbles.  
"You've got to do something!" Sylwia spurs him.  
"Why just me?" Thomas asks her, while he already puts the last stuff in his bag, ready to leave.  
"I don't know, but I' m sure you're the only one who can make him smile..." She reluctantly admits.  
"Okay, just give me the time to catch the first flight and I'll be there." He informs her, proudly recalling her words in his mind.  
  
\- _I'm the only one who can make Miro smile._ \- He grins, before recalling something important.  
  
He grabs his iPhone, dialing quickly a very familiar number.  
  
"Hi, honey, I'm just done with my commission and I'm waiting for you..." Lisa chirps with her sugary voice.  
  
The sweeter she is with him, the guiltier Thomas feels.  
  
"Sweetheart, I know I promised we would pay a visit to your parents today, but you have no idea of what happened... "  
  
\-----------------------------------------------------  
  
As soon as the airplane lands in Fiumicino, Thomas rushes towards the first taxi he can find and finally reaches The Klose's house.  
Sylwia and the kids are already waiting for him outside.  
  
"Thomas, daddy is crossed with us!" Noah whines hugging him.  
"Maybe we made him upset because our card is too ugly..." Luan murmurs, holding shamefully their card.  
  
"Hey, guys, don't say such things; of course your daddy is not crossed with you, he's just having a bad day..." Thomas explains.  
"But it's his birthday, this can't be a bad day!" Noah protests.  
  
 "Yeah, when it's our birthday we're always super happy because we receive lots of gifts; we can stay with our friends and eat cake and other yummy things!" Luan adds.  
"I know, I like birthdays, too, but sometimes there can be people who are not very happy to be reminded that time runs too fast and you can't do some stuff you used to.."  
The Bavarian patiently explains to them.  
  
"Thomas is right; kids, plus let's not forget that this is the first birthday your daddy spends without playing for the National Team and maybe he didn't show us before, but this must be quite upsetting for him..." Sylwia adds.  
  
"Now, please, show me the card..." Thomas requests and Luan obeys, giving the card to him.  
  
It's very colorful, with a huge 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DADDY' written, picturing in the middle a sketch of Miro who blows off the candles of his cake, shooting a balloon over them, without doing any harm to the cake.  
  
"Oh my god, guys, that's so lovely; I'm sure that once your daddy regain his good mood he's going to love it and treasure it!" He states, making the twins smile relieved.  
"Okay, so maybe it's time to make Miro regain his good mood." Sylwia exhorts Thomas. "Come with me!" she drags him inside the house, towards their bedroom, knocking at the locked door.  
  
"Miro, dear, you have visits!"  
"Who is it?" Miroslav wonders from the other side.  
"It's me. Miroooo, aren't you happy?" Thomas cheers.  
  
There's a minute of silence.  
  
 "I said I don't want to see anyone!" The Polish man hisses.  
Thomas grieves a little bit, but he doesn't give in.  
  
"C'mon, Miro, I travelled out of the blue and even lied to my wife to be here, just and only for you!" He tries to push the right buttons and it works.  
  
The are noises of a key turning and finally the door is openig.  
  
"You're right, that would be too rude from me. Come in." Miroslav invites him.  
"Please, leave me alone with him, I promise I won't do anything sexual or too desrepectful; we have a common goal today." The German assures to Sylwia, before going and she nods.  
  
Thomas crosses the threshold and locks the door again.  
He finds Miro lying down on his bed, while he's holding a calendar and he's tearing the pages one by one.  
  
"What the hell are you doing?" Thomas asks him.  
"It's simple, I'm getting rid of time." Miroslav explains, as if it was obvious, while he cuts the days of June with scissors, allowing only the first eight numbers to remain.  
"But you can't!" Thomas strikes back, snatching the scissors from his hand.  
  
"Why? Why can't be 8th June forever? Why can't things just stay the same?" Miro snaps, throwing the calendar on the floor.  
"Oh, c’mon, honey, you already faced so many birthdays and we spent some together, too. Do you remember last one?" Thomas tries to remind to him, sitting on the bed.  
  
"Yes, we were in Brazil and after a laborious day of training, you set up a party for me, forcing everyone to participate and everyone hated you because they just wanted to sleep; Bastian and Lukas even swore they would get their revenge over you!" Miro recalls, amused.      
"Yeah, they made my play-station disappear, it took me a bloody week to get it back, every teammate of ours offered to hide in their room, in turn!" The younger snorts at the memory.  
"Well, my dear, you looked for trouble!" Miro chuckles.  
"The point is that you were happy back then! So what's all this fuss about today? What’s so different about it?" The younger wonders.  
  
 "Geez, Thomas, can't you see? This is not a birthday like any other, I've turned 37 years old. And at my same age, my father retired!" Miro finally confesses. "So probably I should do the same, I'm becoming useless, I don't want to be a burden for my team..." He mumbles, grieving.  
  
"A burden?!  I hope you're just joking! Hello, Champion of the World? Do I have to remind you who is the last scorer that guaranteed Lazio to be in Champions League?"  
“Correction, we are not in Champions League yet, not if we don’t win two very important matches  and it won’t be easy for sure!” Miro points out. “Besides, if I wasn’t a burden like you claimed I’m not, we would have win that damn derby and got the second position, which means a sure ticket for the Champions League ride.”  
  
“But it’s not your fault if you lost, you played well, almost everyone did, Rome has just been luckier than you; you can’t blame yourself for any stupid fact!” Thomas retorts.  
“No way, Thomas, time runs, things change, people gets too old for stuff and I just have to accept it!” The Pole mutters.  
  
“No way! You shouldn’t have deprived yourself not even of die Mannschaft, to begin with. Maybe not for next World Cup, I agree on that, but you could have play during next European Cup without any problem; all the team, including Jogi, would be glad for that!” Thomas insists.  
“Thomas, we faced this discussion at least one hundred times and you know better than me I did the most logical thing. Now there’s nothing you can say or do to make me feel any better, I just want this hateful day to end, although I already know tomorrow won’t be any better…” Miro grieves again.  
  
“But you just can’t give up, you just told the media that you want to play another year with Lazio…” Thomas reminds him.  
“Yesterday was yesterday.  Now I’ve changed my mind again, I see things through another perspective …” The older sighs, unhappy. “Now,  please, leave me alone…”  
“No, Miroslav, I can’t see you like this, I can’t leave you like this.”  
“You came to me, even if we met in Berlin last Saturday, at the Champions League final match. I appreciate that a lot.” Miro smiles at him, caressing his face.  
  
“You know, I was afraid you were cross with me because you thought I had forgot which day it was today.” Thomas confesses, getting up.  
“Quite the contrary, I loved you even more for not reminding me that, until you said those damn two words…” Miro reveals.  
  
“There’s nothing damn about this day, as there wouldn’t be nothing bad about celebrating it, you know you’re surrounded by tons of people who love you and care about you.” Thomas murmurs.  
“I know, but not today. People just should stop saying ‘Happy Birthday’, there’s nothing happy about that.” Miroslav grumbles.  
  
Thomas rolls his eyes and walks towards the door, unsatisfied.  
  
   
“So, how is he? Did you manage to make things better?” Sylwia questions him as soon as she sees him in the corridor.  
“Nope, your husband is too bloody stubborn!” Thomas complains, a little bothered.  “He’s convinced that now he’s too old and he said there’s nothing I can say or do to make him feel better…”  
  
All of the sudden he jolts, enlightened by an idea.  
  
“Maybe there’s something I can do.” He ponders out loud. “Sylwia, do you know if there’s a toy store or even better a Carnival store around here?”  
“Well, there’s a store the kids love, not very far from Olympic Stadium… but why?” She frowns.  
  
“You’ll see.” He smirks. “Hey, Noah, Luan, do you want to help me make your daddy feel better?” He turns to the kids.  
“Sure, Thomas, tell us what to do!” Luan cheers.  
“Mommy, can we go with Thomas?” Noah asks her and, even if a little doubtful Sylwia nods.  
  
Thomas grins and grabs their hands, heading towards the front door.  
“Let’s go, kids, we have a mission to accomplish!”  
  
\-------------------------------------------------  
   
"What the heck did you do to my sons?" Sylwia goggles her eyes, once they're back, after about forty minutes.  
"Nothing they wouldn’t want." Thomas smirks. "Right, little Champions?" He turns to them.  
"Alright, can't wait to see daddy face when he sees us!" Noah giggles.  
"Is he still in his room, Mommy?" Luan asks her.  
"He didn't move from there." The woman replies, still worried.  
"He will when he sees us; let's go kids!" The Bavarian incites them.  
  
They run upstairs and Thomas knocks on Miroslav's door again.  
  
"Mirooooooo, open up!" He calls for his boyfriend, making the twins keep silent.  
"Thomas? I thought you had left." Miro answers, behind the locked door.  
"Not yet; first I have to show you something. c'mon, let me show you." The German pleads.  
  
Miroslav opens the door and he's stunned and speechless.  
  
"Now, tell me, do you still feel that old?" Thomas asks him.  
  
He turned his hair and eyebrows grey with hairspray, he's wearing a pair of typical old man glasses at the tip of his nose, while he hugs Luan and Noah, both with grey hair and eyebrows, as well; Noah has a fake, long, grey beard while Luan proudly displays fake grey mustaches and they both have a walking stick with their back bend over, in a perfect imitation of their grandparents, probably.  
  
Miro bursts out laughing, but then he has teary eyes as well.  
  
“Dear Lord! This is the sweetest thing someone ever did for me.” He murmurs, smiling and kneeling to hug his sons.  
“I had told you that you would make him smile!” Sylwia says to Thomas, reaching the guys.  
  
“So, you didn’t take part to the old club around here!” Miro smirks, getting up.  
“What? Did you really expect me to spoil my awesome hairstyle after two hours of hairdresser? I don’t love you that much!” She jokes about it and he smiles, kissing his wife and then he parts from her, willing to make a sort of announcement.  
  
“I guess I… overreacted this day, I apologize with everyone. Especially you, Noah and Luan, your card is a very masterpiece, thank you so much!” He hugs them again.  
“It’s good to have you back.” Sylwia smiles at her husband. “So, now are you ready to celebrate?”  
“I guess so. With people, drinks, food and everthing, but, kids, I’m afraid I’ll never manage to blow the candle off the way you pictured me!” Miro makes his sons giggle. “After all, today is not that bad…” He considers. “Will you stay to celebrate, too, Müllie?”  
  
“I can’t. Lisa is waiting for me to come back before night.” Thomas explains.  
“Oh, I understand. So, why don’t we take a walk outside, before you leave?” Miro suggests and Sylwia nods, taking the kids in their room.  
  
“Thomas, how did you get such a idea? Thank you so much! I don’t know what to say…” Miro murmurs, as they walk, holding his hand.  
“Oh c’mon, you booked a luxury hotel, made Basti sort of ‘redirect’ me, gave me a wonderful day full of love and fun and now _you_ thank me so much for a bit of temporary hairspray that can be washed away pretty easily?” The younger comments, stunned.  
  
“Yep, it has an amazing symbolic meaning.” Miro beams, pulling him closer for a deep kiss. “Although, geez, you’re unwatchable!” He laughs, parting from him and removing his fake glasses.  
“But you love me!” Thomas retorts.  
“More than ever.” Miro whispers, holding him tight.  
  
“Actually Miro, I want you to keep aging on and on, until not only you’ll train some German teams, but one day you’ll be Die Mannschaft ‘s brand new coach, I just know it’s going to happen.” Thomas grins, enjoying his embrace.  
“Isn’t it a little ambitious as project?” Miroslav giggles.  
  
“When it’s about you, nothing is impossible!” Thomas murmurs, caressing his hair.  
“And what about you? Will you be still playing in the team even then?”  
“Well, maybe yes, if it’s ten years from now… or maybe I’ll just be your assistant. Can’t you imagine that?” Thomas already daydreams, kissing his partner.  
“It would be perfect, but let’s stick to the present.” Miro advises him, between kisses.  
  
“Now, very unwillingly but… I think you should go.” The Pole says, resting his forehead against the Bavarian’s. “By the way, what did you tell Lisa this time?”  
“Oh well, I invented that Manu had accidentally broken a knick-knack Philipp gave to him and he asked Basti, Robert and me to keep Fips busy to prevent him from going to Manu, until he found a way to fix his gift up… or replace it!” He explains, making the other laugh.  
“That’s a very shrewd move. But doesn’t Lisa find it weird that Manu cares so much about a gift from Fips’?” The older asks him.  
“Are you kidding? The most absurd thing is that my wife has a sort of sixth sense about the couples in our team: she knows about Luks and Basti, she suspected about Fips and Manu even before me, she knows as well about Mats and Benni or Mario and Marco… and yet she utterly has no idea of what there’s between us!” He informs him.  
“Wow, that’s quite impressing!” Miro smiles.  
  
“Wait, Miro, you can’t really expect me to leave without giving you my gift, first.” Thomas says.  
“Is there a gift, too?” Miro beams.  
“Of course there is.” Thomas smirks, drawing out from his pocket a little, red velvet box.  
  
Miroslav jolts and bake off.  
  
“Tho- Thomas… I’m already married and you are as well…” He babbles, panic-stricken.  
  
Thomas just bursts out laughing.  
  
“What? Geez… did you really think that I… ? No, calm down, it’s not a ring!” He points out. “You know, one day I was playing with my computer and did some researches… your zodiacal sign is Gemini, which in Italian is _Gemelli_. And in Italian _Gemelli_ are also the cufflinks, ain’t funny?” He giggles. “So I guess this was the perfect gift.” He goes on, opening the box and showing to him two World Cup shaped golden cufflinks. “So you know that you’ll always be a Champion to me, honey.”  
  
“Oh, Müllie, this is probably the kitschiest thing I see!” Miro laughs. “But one of the loveliest ones, too. Thank you.” He adds, softened, taking the box and its showy contents.  
  
“However, if you feel like having a double marriage… we can always take a trip to Las Vegas!” Thomas winks at him.  
“I don’t think so, baby. First we need a house together. Remember? The Hat-trick issue.” Miro plays his same game, chuckling.  
“How could I forget?” Thomas grins.  
  
“But if you dare to success during an eventual Bayern vs. Lazio match, you can forget not only the marriage, but even a single kiss more from me!” The Pole makes the German laugh, before he realizes something.  
“So... if you’re talking about this… does it mean that you won’t retire anymore?” Thomas asks him, hope glinting in his eyes.  
“Why should I? I’m still young enough to give you a hard time!” Miro giggles, much more relieved and serene.  
  
\-------------------------------------------------------  
  
It’s evening; Thomas is already back home, while Miro is enjoying his party with his family, some friends and even some Lazio teammates.  
All of the sudden, his iPhone vibrates with an incoming message, around ten o’clock.  
Unseen from everyone, Miro reads it and his smile grows larger.  
  
‘ You’d better like your birthdays, because I plan to celebrate at least the next fifty ones with you.  <3 T.’  
\--  
THE END

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it, if you do, pleeease, give me a sign, even the tiniest one can make my day. *o*  
> Otherwise, it means that it sucks, so I apologize for that :/
> 
> If you’re wondering what’s the birthday surprise that Thomas recall, if you don’t know it yet, I guess you should read this : http://archiveofourown.org/works/2295731/chapters/5048792 
> 
> And if you arewondering what’s the hat-trick issue, you should read this: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3565382  
> About, Thomas’ (kitsch) gift… here we go (yep, it exists for real!! XD ) : 
> 
>  
> 
> [](http://it.tinypic.com?ref=iz6atf)  
> 
> 
>  
> 
> That’s all, thanks for your time , see ya with some of my updates ^^
> 
> p.s. if you have any request, hit me at @CherishedDream4 ;)
> 
> And, once more, HAAAPPPPYYY BIRRRTHDAYYY, MIIIIROSLAAAAAAV!!!


End file.
